Give In to the Night
by lightblue-Nymphadora
Summary: Three years ago, on the glee club's trip to New York, Santana went missing. Rachel gets into trouble one night, and is rescued by her former team mate. She finds that Santana has changed. Pezberry.
1. Darkling

_**LbN: Prompt fill for JR-Boone. :)**_

Rachel walked through the cool night air, looking up at the New York lights. She hated it. Hated that NYADA had been so awful to her. Hated that her dream had quickly turned into a nightmare, and that everywhere she went in this godforsaken city, she was haunted by the memory of _her_.

She sighed and turned down a side street. She could still remember that night—the night Santana had gone missing.

* * *

"_Guys, has anyone seen Santana?" Artie asked. "Brittany can't find her."_

"_I haven't seen her since we came down to the pool," Finn said. "She said she was going to chill in the room for a while."_

"_We should go look for her," Quinn said. _

"_I'll help," Rachel told her, climbing out of the pool._

* * *

They'd searched the hotel. Then the area around the hotel. Then the police had been called. They'd been on the news for a year and a day—grieving the disappearance of their friend. But the news had gone quiet. The country had gotten over its grief for them. No one cared anymore. But Rachel cared. And every day, she hoped she'd spot the other girl. When she went to work, the store... But she never did. She would never admit it, but it was why she hadn't gone back to Lima after dropping out of NYADA. She could get her degree anywhere now, but maybe…one day….

"Hey baby."

Rachel spun around. She took a firmer hold of the mace in her pocket and began to walk faster down the alley.

"What's the rush?" the man called. "Don't ignore me. Dangerous men out this time of night. Living all alone in this city isn't safe, baby girl…."

She screamed as he grabbed her, and tried to spray him.

He batted the canister away and pushed her into the wall. "These streets belong to us. The Darklings."

"Get off me, you freak!"

He covered her mouth, and smiled.

Her eyes went wide as she saw his fangs, glimmering slightly in the light of the liquor store's sign.

"Don't worry," he said. "It won't hurt. Much."

"I wouldn't, if I were you," another, female, voice said. "That one's under my protection."

Both Rachel and the man—the…thing—turned.

"Santana?" Rachel choked. She was dropped, and shivered on the ground as she tried to watch the fight that took place. The two figures moved in a blur. Rachel sat against the wall in shock as blood splattered onto the ground around her.

A howl went up finally, and Santana stood, trembling. The man's body lay broken next to her. She dropped to her knees.

"San—Santana?" Rachel crawled over to her, and reached out a hand.

"I'm fine," Santana said. She held a hand to her side.

"You're not."

"We need…to get off the streets," she panted. "Now."

"My apartment's close."

* * *

"ARGH!"

"Shhh…it's okay. It looks like it's closing," Rachel said as she finished wrapping the wound.

"It is. But not fast enough," Santana said. "I've lost too much blood. You need to leave."

"No, I'm not—"

"Rachel, this isn't a great time to be noble. If you didn't get it from the fucking fangs and fighting and rapidly closing wound, I'm a damn vampire."

"I…figured that out."

"Then you're dumber than Bella Swan. I'm controlling myself right now. That's not going to last much longer."

"What do you need?"

"What do you think?"

"If you—"

"No. I know what you're thinking, and no."

"Then I'll go get you…blood in the morning."

Santana struggled to pull something out of her pocket. "My credit card. Stay at a hotel tonight. Do NOT come back in here without at least a few gallons. Leave it by the door, and go out again. Understand?"

"Yes. I'll be back."

"Come here."

Rachel hesitated, then moved cautiously toward the older girl.

"Don't worry. I need to mark you."

"What?"

"So you don't have any more creatures of the night following you. Give me your hand."

"What—"

"Really don't have time for explanations, but I swear you won't die or turn into a vampire."

She held out her hand. Santana bit it.

"OW!"

"Shut up. It's just like giving blood. Now get out of here. And be careful. That mark won't work on regular old human assholes."

Rachel grabbed her purse and rushed out of the tiny apartment.

* * *

She spent a restless night in a Holiday Inn Express. At eight the next morning, she choked down so fruit from the continental breakfast, and went out.

The man running the register at the butcher's shop had asked so many questions, that finally Rachel had given up. "My friend is a vampire and she needs to eat. How much for five gallons?"

The man had chuckled nervously and sold it to her after calling her "one of them Twilight girls."

She'd left the bags just inside the door, and hurried out. She didn't go far, though. She paced the building, wondering just how long she needed to stay away. She went just down the road to the movie theater, and watched Dark Knight Rises twice and sat through half of the discount theater's Narnia marathon before deciding to check on Santana.

When she got in, all of the shades were drawn.

"Santana?"

"Look up."

"Ack!" Rachel yelled, jumping to one side. "Was that really necessary?"

Santana came down from the ceiling and smiled at her. "I guess not. Sorry. Thank you. I feel a lot better."

"Good, because you need to explain this to me before I go completely out of my mind," Rachel said weakly. "You disappear, we don't hear from you for nearly three years, and all of a sudden you pop back into my life as a vampire."

"Technically, I'm a Darkling."

"What's—"

"We're more powerful. We can control our urges better, which is why you're still alive. A regular vampire would've killed you in that alley."

"Well…thanks for not?"

Santana laughed.

"Are you…better now?" Rachel asked softly. "Or will I have to stay in a hotel again?"

"No, your bed is yours again. I'll buy you a new set of pillows tonight. I may have taken out my immense annoyance on them. I'll see you around."

"Wait!" Rachel said, louder than she intended. "You can't just leave. What…what happened to you?"

Santana sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "I know you have questions, but…" she trailed off, sending a frustrated look at the wall. "How's your hand?"

"Fine," Rachel said, holding it up.

"The scars will fade in a few days, but other ones like us will be able to…er…smell me on you."

"Vampire equivalent of peeing on something?"

"Sort of. Sorry."

"If it keeps me from being eaten, I'm cool."

They stood in silence for a long moment.

"Stay with me?" Rachel asked quietly. "You can't just leave. It's daylight. Won't you fry up?"

"Not exactly, but the experience wouldn't be pleasant. I'll stay until tomorrow night. Then I have to go back."

"Back where?"

Santana was quiet.


	2. Santana's Story

**Give Into the Night**

Santana sat patiently as Rachel paced silently through the house. She knew the girl was just working through the shock of things. Rachel had the answer now, and as soon as she calmed down she'd want the rest of the story. Finally, Rachel sat down next to her on the couch. "Are you okay?" she asked softly.

"No," Rachel said. "We looked for you. I…I _missed _you. And I've looked for you every day since. What happened?"

"I had a headache that night. That's why I didn't come down to the pool with you guys," Santana began. "I couldn't find my medicine, so I went down to the hotel's gift shop to see if they had any Aleve."

* * *

"_Is this all you have?" she asked the woman at the desk. _

"_Yep. Sorry. There's a corner store down the street though," the woman replied._

"_Yeah, I think I saw it on the way in. Thanks."_

_Santana glanced back down the hall. She could hear her friends happy laughter from the pool. She really should take someone with her….but they were having fun. It was just down the street—she'd be back before they even noticed she'd gone._

* * *

"It was down farther and around a few more corners than I remembered," Santana said. "I noticed these two guys following me when I came out. I tried to speed up, but I got lost, and…." She trailed off and gave a little shrug. "I put up a damn good fight. That's why when Edmund found me, he decided to turn me instead of killing me."

"Edmund?"

"The leader of our clan. I'd held my own until they got there to scare the rogue vampires off. I was bleeding badly…."

* * *

_Santana lay gasping, staring up at the men and woman who'd chased off the creatures. She shivered when one who looked to be about 40 years old leaned down over her._

"_Shhh, child," he said, looking over her injuries. "You fought bravely."_

"_H—help me…" Santana gasped. _

"_I am Edmund. Do you wish to live?"_

_Santana's eyes scanned the group quickly, terrified. She nodded._

_He leaned closer to her. "Then I shall help you."_

* * *

Rachel sat staring at her, and this time Santana looked away. "That's about it. I had to stay in while you all looked for me. I wasn't allowed to go back at first, because I had to learn how to be tame around humans. And then…."

"And then too much time had passed," Rachel finished quietly.

"I didn't know how to just…walk back into your lives. And, as Edmund reminded me, what would I say? What would happen when the police tried to investigate my 'kidnapping'? What would happen if I ever lost control? I was so young, in terms of my new life, that that was always a possibility until about a year ago."

Rachel nodded. "What happened after he…er…bit you?"

"I can't say just now," she told her softly. "I've already told you quite a lot, and I shouldn't have. We have rules, and the main one is secrecy. We're not supposed to reveal ourselves, for obvious reasons. Speaking of which…I know I said I would stay, but when it gets dark, I'll have to go check in at home."

"Will you come back?"

Santana reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind Rachel's ear. "Yes. If you want me to."

"I do."

She smiled. "Enough about me, then. What about you? What happened to Broadway?"

"I saw it as an adult, rather than as a child," Rachel deadpanned.

"What's that even mean?"

"It means I was working my ass off last semester, and getting run into the ground by sadistic has been teachers. I was getting 'offers' that basically went to the tune of 'fuck me and I'll put you on stage'. The few times my talent got me anywhere, no one cared. It wasn't just starting at the bottom of the barrel, it was starting at the garbage can of the barrel factory before the barrel's even made. I quit at Christmas. A lot of things changed my senior year. I grew up a lot after you left. I still love performing, but I found other things I love too. Anyway, I'm just working this term, and then I've been accepted at NYU for next fall."

"What are you going to study?"

And now, Rachel smiled for the first time since she'd gotten back to the apartment. It was contagious, and Santana smiled too.

"Child psychology. I want to be a behavioral intervention specialist."

"Wow. That's…powerful."

"I told you I grew up," Rachel said, giving Santana a playful nudge. She shivered, feeling how cold the girl was.

Santana shivered from Rachel's warmth. "Can I…hold you?" she asked quietly.

Rachel seemed a bit startled by the question, but moved closer to Santana anyway. "I guess."

"You trust me. I'm glad. Now…why that job specifically?"

"Finn broke up with me senior year because I was a depressed psychopath," Rachel said. She heard Santana snort. "I'm paraphrasing, of course, but that was the extent of it. After that, I stopped going to glee club for a while. I volunteered at a kid's residential treatment center in Columbus. Two hour drive twice a week. When I was working there, I realized how easily I could've been one of those kids. I put everything I had into performing, the good and the bad, but what if I didn't have that? What if I was one of these kids who had nothing, or didn't know what to put themselves into? Or couldn't? One kid cried when I left…. I still thought I was on my way to Broadway, but I figured I'd just give back when I was rich and famous," she said with a chuckle. "Once I readjusted my life plan, I know I wanted to help kids."

Santana sat flabbergasted at this. This was definitely not the girl she knew in high school. "Wow," she said simply.

"We're both much changed," Rachel said in her best British accent.

"Damn straight…."

They spent the rest of the day watching movies. Santana went to the bedroom at one point to drink some more blood. Rachel had wanted to watch (for some fucking reason), but Santana had resisted.

"Next time, could you buy sheep's blood?" she asked when she came back to the living room. "Pig's blood is kind of heavy. And it has an aftertaste."

Rachel gave her a Look.

Santana grinned. "What time do you go to work?"

"In about an hour."

"I'll walk you there. If I can, I'll come get you afterward. If not, I'll send someone."

Rachel nodded. "I need to go get ready."

"I'll chill out here."

* * *

Their clan lived in a perfectly normal brownstone. Santana had expected gothic, and iron and black drapes. Nope. If the Weasleys lived in New York, this would be their house. It was downright cozy, if you ignored the packages of blood lying around the house.

She walked up the steps and smiled at her "siblings". "Hey Max, Celeste."

"Finally! You're back," Celeste said.

"Yeah…Edmund's pissed, right?"

"Please," Max said, rolling his eyes. "You could go on a state wide killing spree, and he'd probably just slap you on the wrist and tell you to remember to brush your fangs. Still, everyone's on lock down until you get back."

"Eurgh…let's go."

She led the way in and immediately went to the living room. The family was assembled there. She held out her hands as a young boy (at least, he looked like a young boy) hurtled toward her.

"Santana! I'm glad you're alive!"

"Thanks, Richie."

"Finally, you grace us with your presence," a voice said.

"Good to see you too, Taylor," Santana snarked.

"I know you think you're the best thing to ever happen to this coven," the man said. "But do you have to make the rest of us wait while you go off chasing humans? Really—"

"Let me stop you there," Santana said. "I know you're gunning for me, but I did nearly die. I was safe, so I chilled until I was better. Calm your tits."

"You're such a bitch."

"I know."

The rest of the family snickered.

"I don't know what Edmund sees in you," Taylor sneered.

"Ah, this again. I do my damn job—that's what he sees. You, on the other hand, have no sense of duty."

"Duty. So when he tells you to kill your new pet, you will?"

Santana saw red, but was held back by Celeste.

"That. Is. Enough."

The voice came from the doorway, and everyone turned. There was complete silence as Edmund walked in.

He was a tall and slender, with coal black hair. He looked to be about 40, but he was the oldest in the coven—500 years, to be exact. He walked into the room and stopped next to Santana.

"Thank goodness, you are returned safe to us. I will speak with you alone."

The rest of the family took the hint and scattered. Edmund nodded to two chairs and put a large flagon on the table in front of them.

"The new supply of plasma came in," he said, filling a glass. "Try it. I think it's one of the better fakes."

Santana drank, eyes going red. "It's good."

"Drink. You were injured."

"I had a few gallons earlier."

He turned to her, surprised. "How?"

"…I…er…"

"Ah, say no more. Your human. You must be more careful, Santana. The Darkling you killed was a rogue, but it could've been bad if he'd been a part of one of the clans. You're the heir of this clan, Santana. You must put aside these human impulses."

"I know. I couldn't just let her die though. She's…from my past."

A smile crept slowly across Edmund's face. "This wouldn't be Rachel?"

Santana's head shot up from where she'd been examining the run. "How-?"

"Your nightmares," he said. "In any case, the Darkling had a price on his head from Queenan's clan. He'll probably want to honor you the next time you go over."

"Oh god..." Santana said, rolling her eyes.

"Have you marked your human?"

"Yes."

"And will she worry if you stay away?"

"Definitely."

"Then you may go back to her. _After_ you do rounds tonight."

"Thank you, Edmund."

"Stay out of trouble."

Santana grinned. "Always do."


	3. Hard to Let Go

**Give Into the Night**

Rachel wrapped her coat around her more tightly and glared at the drunk patrons of The Purple Tortoise. She'd been groped a few more times than normal that night and was officially in a bad mood.

"I can create a distraction with a round of shots while you sneak out the back," CJ, the head bartender, offered.

"It's okay," Rachel said. "My ride is here."

"You sure?" he asked.

In fact, Rachel wasn't sure. She had no idea, but there was this weird…feeling…that Santana was right outside. "Yeah. Catch you on Friday."

He nodded and waved goodbye. And he still called a round of free shots to clear a path for her.

Rachel loved her boss sometimes.

There was a surprising lack of catcalls when she walked into the chilly night air, and one glance toward the road told her why.

Santana was there, leaning against a black SUV. Two other people (other Darklings, Rachel suspected) were standing on either side of her. A girl with curly blonde hair and a tall boy who looked like the stock image off a Hawaiian holiday brochure. The few drunks lounging around the entrance to the bar looked like they were about to piss their pants in fear, but Rachel wasn't afraid. They both smiled as she approached.

"Hey Rachel," Santana said, hugging her. "These are my…ah…siblings. Max, and Celeste. They were dying to meet you, so they did rounds with me."

"Rounds?"

"We have to make sure the rogues don't start fucking shit up," Max explained.

"Language," Celeste said, punching him lightly. "It's nice to finally meet the girl of Santana's—"

"Let's get her home, okay," Santana said over her friend. "You look like you had a long night."

Rachel quirked an eyebrow but said nothing as she hopped into the back of the car.

Santana got in next to her and pulled her close. "Are you okay? You looked kind of miffed coming out of that place."

"Some people couldn't keep their hands to themselves," she grumbled.

"Need us to decapitate someone?" Max asked conversationally.

Rachel laughed. "Not necessary, but thanks."

"Just let me know," he said, giving her a wink.

"Santana?"

"Yeah?"

"I have a…uh…weird question. Does this mark come with side effects?" she asked, holding up her hand.

"You didn't tell her about—" Celeste started.

"Thank you, big sis," Santana said. "That's enough."

"Jesus…." Max chuckled.

Rachel ignored them and continued to explain. "It's just…earlier it was like I could feel your presence. I know that sounds weird and New Age-y, but—"

"You're right. You can," Santana said, nodding. "Connection works both ways. I can feel it when you're anxious, or in trouble, and you can tell when I'm nearby."

"…that's creepy…"

"You're in a car full of vampires—you've got to get used to creepy," Celeste said, turning onto Rachel's street.

They pulled up in front of the apartment building, and the two in front said goodbye.

"Are you coming with me?" Rachel asked Santana.

"If that's cool with you."

"Yeah," she said, smiling.

"You kids be good now!" Max called as Celeste pulled away from the curb.

"They seem nice," Rachel commented.

"They're great. Let's get in. I'm sure you're tired."

Rachel led the way, thinking as they walked up the stairs. She wanted to ask what Celeste had been about to say earlier, but wasn't sure that Santana really wanted to talk about it. "Did everything go okay today?"

"Yeah. I'm kind of the family favorite. Well, to everyone except Taylor. Anyway, it was fine."

"Who's Taylor?"

"An asshole who acts like he's eleven years old all the time."

"How old is he really?"

"Around 104, I think?"

Rachel let out a slightly nervous chuckle as she walked to the kitchen. She jumped when she opened the fridge, having forgotten that Santana's extra blood was in there.

"Hey, we don't have to talk about vampire stuff if you don't want to," Santana said gently, leaning against the counter.

"No, it's okay," Rachel told her. She took out some hummus and carrot sticks. "I want to know everything. It's just kind of…hard to wrap my mind around."

Santana nodded and wrapped her arms around Rachel as the younger girl ate.

"Uh…Santana?"

"Sorry," Santana muttered into her shoulder, not making any attempt to move. "It's just…kind of hard for me to let go."

Rachel turned to face her. "Earlier…was Celeste about to say 'the girl of your dreams'?"

"Er…technically that is the idea," Santana said, nodding. "But vampires and Darklings don't actually have 'dreams' in the way you think of them."

"Then what?"

"Nightmares," Santana said. "When we're turned, we go through a period of…hibernation, for lack of a better word. We have god awful nightmares. Apparently I was very vocal. I kept dreaming of you dying…."

Rachel hugged her. "Why? I guess I don't get why you were dreaming… er… nightmaring, about me."

"Because I missed you," Santana whispered. "I…"

Rachel got the message, even though Santana stopped. "Normally, I'd say I don't believe you. But after this week, I'm prepared to believe anything."

Santana let out a small laugh. "I sort of get that."

"Are you going to stay with me?"

"As much as I can without getting told off by Edmund," Santana told her, grinning. "Eat your snack. I'll be in the bedroom."

"Why did that sound dirty?"

"Because you have a dirty mind."

"Nothing to do with you, huh?"

"Nope!"

* * *

It had been a weird night. Mostly because Rachel had woken up every other hour to catch Santana watching her sleep. She'd finally had enough around six in the morning.

"_Right, Edward Cullen, you are NOT allowed to creep on me when I'm trying to get my beauty sleep!"_

Santana had promised to stop after the threat of being banished to the couch. Still, Rachel hadn't gotten much rest. Something about the thought of finding a friend who'd been missing for years, finding out said friend was a vamp—Darkling, or whatever—and having her move in was not conducive to a good night's rest. She wasn't worried or anything—in fact, she felt an odd sense of comfort whenever Santana was around—but it was a lot to process.

And this was why she walked two blocks past the Starbucks where she was supposed to be meeting Kurt before she'd realized what she'd done.

"Hi Kurt!" she said, slipping into the seat across from him after jogging back.

"Hey Rachel," he said, sliding a scone toward her. "I got your favorite. And I ordered you a drink. Should be out any second. You okay? You look tired."

"I…" she trailed off. She wanted to tell him. She'd been debating telling him since she'd gotten dressed this morning. But she couldn't. It was Santana's secret, and she wouldn't betray that. "I just didn't get much sleep these past few nights. No big. I'm sure I'll sleep like a brick tonight. How's NYADA?"

Kurt had been accepted at the same time as Rachel. Unlike Rachel, he'd taken to the school like a kid to a new toy, and had thrived in the weird environment.

"It's great. I miss you, though," he said. "And your favorite tormentor got fired finally."

"No way?" Rachel asked. "What happened?"

"Showed up drunk to every class for about a week," he said, shrugging. "What have you been up to?"

"Work. The bar and the library. Mostly the bar, though, since the library's been closed for renovations this month. We had to move a few things to storage, but now we're just waiting."

He nodded. "Making any new friends?"

She shook her head. "Hermit's life for me."

He sighed. "Rachel…this isn't still about Santana, is it? You can't…you can't do this to yourself. She's gone, honey. And it hurts me just as much to admit that, but…we have to accept it."

"Kurt…I need to tell you—"

"Chai latte—Rachel!" the barista called.

She stood to get it and took a deep breath. No. She couldn't do this. She had to stay quiet.

"What is it?" Kurt asked when she sat back down. He was staring hard at her with concern, forehead crinkled.

"Oh…it's just…I wanted to tell you I decided to minor in theater," she lied.

"That's great!" he said, smiling brightly. "It'll be good for you to get back on the stage."

Rachel nodded, and sipped her drink.

* * *

Rachel got back to the apartment around one, after picking up groceries and an extra gallon of blood for Santana (sheep's this time, as requested). She immediately knew something was different when she stepped into the apartment. "Santana?"

"In the kitchen!"

She found Santana playing poker with a small child at the kitchen island. "Er…hi."

"Hi!" the boy piped. "I'm Richie. I'm a vampire, but I won't eat you. Come play cards with us!"

"Rich, give her a second," Santana said, laughing. "Er…sorry. I would've asked first but we had a sort of family emergency."

Rachel quirked an eyebrow at her as she put the grocery sacks down on the counter.

"Group of rogues that a few of the clans had been hunting showed their ugly faces over in Albany. Richie's a kid, so he doesn't exactly fight like the rest of us. He had to stay back, so Celeste brought him over."

"I'm feeling like I'm losing my grip on reality," Rachel groaned.

Santana walked over behind her and kissed her shoulder. "I know. We'll talk later, okay? I promise."

Rachel nodded and walked over to where Richie was dealing the cards again. "Deal me in, buddy."


	4. Burning

_**LbN: N/C in this chapter- nothing graphic happens, but it could trigger some folks. **_

Santana flopped into the front seat of the Range Rover and tried not to look too aggravated. She clutched the arms of the seat as her skin slowly reverted back to normal. Usually, she didn't go out in the daytime. The feeling of her skin "recovering" from what the sun had done to it was not one she enjoyed. It was like having the most extreme case of eczema on the planet, plus an odd tingling sensation, like when your foot falls asleep. Walking past an open window wouldn't do much, but a block and a half of direct sunlight? Instant Lizard.

"Eurgh…."

"You're the one who wanted to leave now. It's ten in the fucking morning," William, one of her older "brothers", said.

"I couldn't take Queenan anymore. Don't get me wrong, it's nice to be appreciated for doing something good," Santana said, trying to ignore how much her face itched. "But seriously…he doesn't know how to just say 'Good work'. It's like verbal fellatio any time he's proud of someone."

William laughed as he drove them back across town. "Hey, at least you're on all of their good sides."

"Right?"

They spent the rest of the ride in silence. Santana's mind was on that evening. Rachel had agreed to a "non-date" with her. They'd spent the beginning of the week at her apartment, and Santana had done her best to explain the ins and outs of having a Darkling "mark" you—including the fact that she was sort of vampire-married to Rachel now. Rachel had seemed to accept everything, but had asked for a couple of days to process it. Which was why Santana (much to her displeasure) had spent the previous night at Queenan's den, finally getting around to accepting the reward for killing a rogue. She was looking forward to relaxing for a bit before getting ready.

"Home sweet home," William said as they pulled into the garage.

The house was quiet when they entered, save for the music coming from the kitchen. Santana peeked around the doorframe to say hi, but there was no one there. "That's weird," she muttered, walking across the hardwood floor to turn the radio off. When she did, she heard a muffled thud coming from somewhere down the hall. "Did you hear that?" she asked William.

"Aye. It sounded like it was coming from the training room."

They walked quietly through the house, on high alert. Santana was painfully aware of how quiet it was. It was always like this when everyone was sleeping, of course, but something felt… off. She pushed the door to the training room open a crack, just in time to see Amilee, one of the coven's "children", fly into the wall. The girl was tiny, and probably only 100 pounds soaking wet, but she still made a good dent in the plaster. Santana saw Taylor advance on the girl.

"Will you obey now?" he asked.

"Fuck off!" she snapped, adding a few things that not even Santana would repeat. She may have looked like she was twelve, but she had lived through at least three centuries of swearing trends.

Taylor stalked over and pinned her to the wall by her throat. As she gasped for air, he reached down and began to unbutton her jeans.

Faster than any human would be able to see, Santana and William rushed in and tackled Taylor to the ground. When she was sure William had a good hold of Taylor, she stood and went to help Amilee.

"Hey," she said softly. "It's okay, I've got you."

"What's this?"

Everyone turned to see Edmund, Celeste, Korbin and Drake filing in.

"We heard a fight," Celeste explained. "And then I heard you yell, Santana."

"William," Edmund said. "Let him up."

The younger Darkling obeyed, but got in one last kick before he did so.

"What's the meaning of this?" Edmund asked Taylor.

"They jumped me!" Taylor said.

"You were fucking molesting Amilee!" Santana yelled at him.

"Liar," Taylor sneered, wiping blood from his mouth.

"Please can I hit him again?" William asked Edmund.

"No," their leader said firmly. "Amilee…was he hurting you?"

She nodded, holding Santana's hand a little tighter.

"She's lying for Santana!" Taylor snapped. "Everyone's in her pocket, and she hates me."

"Yeah, because you're a whiny asshole rapist," Santana muttered.

"Enough." Edmund stepped toward the group. "Santana, come here."

She did so, releasing Amilee's hand.

He took her arm and bit her wrist.

She winced as blood seeped out into his mouth. It was one of the lesser forms of punishment—sort of like a slap on the hand.

"For fighting. You bring your quarrels to me."

"Yes, Edmund."

"And you," he said, turning to face Taylor, cold rage washing over his face.

"I…I didn't…"

"Do you mistake me for a fool?"

"No, Edmund…I—"

"Then you think you are so precious to this coven that you can get away with a crime in my house?"

By now, Taylor was backing away and Santana was shielding Amilee's eyes out of some weird motherly instinct. There was a good chance that serious carnage was about to take place.

"I'm nearly an elder," Taylor said. "She's supposed to submit to me!"

"You will never be an elder, you blithering idiot," Drake said casually. "Mates submit to _each other_…but she is not your mate. She's also a child."

"She's three hundred years old!"

"With the mind and body of a twelve year old!" Edmund yelled.

The vampires and Darklings shrank back. It was rare that Edmund raised his voice. He was a true leader—one who could command without bullying and dealt fairly with everyone. But this…. There was sure to be blood.

"Santana, as heir to this coven, what should Taylor's punishment be?" he asked softly.

She knew the right answer—death. But somehow, that seemed a little too easy. Holding Amilee, feeling the older, but smaller, vampire shake with fright…. Snix came out to play. "Rooftop exile. The rest of the day."

Drake and Korbin gave Edmund the smallest of looks for confirmation before grabbing Taylor and dragging him out of the room.

"It's okay now," Santana told Amilee.

"Thank you," she said.

* * *

Santana operated under the Game of Thrones Ned Stark law—the man (or woman) who passes the sentence should swing the sword. Therefore, she'd overseen them chain Taylor up on the roof herself, and had checked on him before the sun went down.

"Take him downstairs," she said with a nod. "I have a date to get to."

The smell of his burnt skin still lingered a bit in her nose by the time she got to Rachel's apartment. She ignored it, though, and knocked.

Rachel appeared a few moments later, dressed in a black and red cocktail dress that somehow matched Santana's slacks and sequined blouse perfectly. "Ready to go?"

"Of course," Santana said, taking her hand.

"Where are we going?"

"Spaghetti Warehouse. 'Cause I'm classy like that."

Rachel laughed as they exited the apartment building.

"I also got us tickets to Light at the Piazza."

"That's sold out for months!" Rachel said, astonished.

"I know a guy," Santana told her. She smiled as they walked, trying to push the day's events to the back of her mind.

"Are you okay?" Rachel asked softly. "Is it vampire stuff?"

_Damn, busted_, Santana thought. "Yeah. But I don't want to talk about it, okay? Let's just enjoy our night."

"_The_ night. Not _our_ night. This isn't a date yet, Santana."

"Mmkay," she said, smiling still. "But you should know that I'm filing that 'yet' away for a possible future 'I told you so'. It's only fair."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Let's get you your breadstick fix so we can go watch our play."

* * *

Santana stopped in front of Rachel's door. It had been a great night, but she wasn't sure if Rachel needed more time to adjust before they resumed their sleepovers. "I had fun tonight."

"Me too," Rachel said. "Do you need to go home?"

Santana shook her head, trying not to grin like an idiot. She knew she wasn't getting invited in for a "nightcap", but she still wanted to stay. She needed to be close to Rachel.

"Good." Rachel unlocked the door and led the way in.

Santana began to follow, but stopped. She breathed in deeply. "Rachel, don't move." She walked in, body tense, and breathed in again. The smell—Abercombie cologne, hair grease and burnt flesh—was faint, and she relaxed a bit. But only a bit.

"What's wrong?" Rachel asked quietly.

"We need to go."

"Why?"

"Taylor's been here."


	5. Going Away

**Give Into the Night**

They'd barely made it back onto the street before Celeste's SUV came peeling around the corner. Rachel felt Santana tense next to her, and then relax.

"It's okay," she said. She looked up and down the street as the car pulled to a stop. "Get in."

"What the hell's going on?" Rachel asked once they were on the road again.

"Taylor's gone rogue," Celeste said.

"Figured," Santana said, frustrated. "He'd been in Rachel's apartment."

"We got her," Max said into the phone. "Yeah, she's fine, so's her human." He glanced back at them, and handed the phone to Santana. "Edmund wants to talk to you."

Rachel waited as patiently as she could as Santana answered in monosyllables. When the older girl hung up the phone, she took her hand. "Are…are you okay?"

"Fine," Santana mumbled. "He's not even mad. Just worried."

"He's put a price on Taylor's head," Celeste explained. "We've got runners from Queenan and Sasha's clans out looking now. We're hopping out at the house, then you can go."

"Go where?" Rachel asked.

"I won't be allowed to hunt," Santana explained as Celeste drove through the crowded streets. "It's too personal, so I have to stay out of it. So we're going somewhere we'll be safe."

When they finally got to the house, Rachel could see vampires in ranks outside. She guessed that the man in front addressing them was Edmund. "Santana—"

"In a minute," she said quietly.

The switch happened before Rachel could process it. Santana was suddenly in the driver's seat, pulling away. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that," she muttered.

"Sorry, but we need to move fast. I'll pull over once we're out of the city and you can move up."

Rachel rolled her eyes, took off her seatbelt, and jumped over the center console to the passenger's seat. "Solved."

Santana smiled slightly and took Rachel's hand. "There's another family who lives just a few hours north of here. We're going to stay at their mansion. It's a little more…well guarded."

"More Darklings?" Rachel asked.

"Er…no. But more of the Gloaming races."

"What?"

"Vampires, Darklings, Faeries, Wer—"

"Faeries? There are Faeries?"

"Yes, but not the kind you're thinking of. The ones we have are a bit more…um…vicious."

"Keep going?"

"Faeries tend to…set things on fire. See, they have a very short life span after they're turned. They burn out quickly, to put it bluntly, and they're extremely vindictive. It takes a lot to become an immortal Faerie, and most don't measure up. You basically have to keep yourself alive purely out of spite, and those that manage it are pretty hateful. It's a painful existence, being the concentrated essence of the sun—"

"Oh for god's sake."

"Yeah, I know. Anyway, the older ones teach the newly turned to be ruthless. They drain the life out of everything they come in contact with, so they either die out quickly, or they learn to enjoy it. Any unsolved gruesome crimes you hear about? I'm talking about child rape, triple homicide gruesome? Probably one of them adding a few months to their pathetic existence."

Rachel sat speechless for a while, gaping at Santana. She tried picturing Tinkerbell as a murderous, raping, killing machine. She felt like crying.

"AND, on a happier note," Santana said, seeing her distress. "I can tell you more about where we're going."

"Please and thanks," Rachel said weakly.

Santana glanced at her for a second. "Rachel, we can talk about other things too. Just tell me when you're feeling overwhelmed," she said, giving the younger girl's hand a soft squeeze.

"I've been overwhelmed since the night I almost got eaten," Rachel deadpanned. "Where are we going?"

Santana sighed. "My twin's house."

"Excuse me?"

"When you're turned, no matter which of the Gloaming races you are, you get a soul match. Someone who's lived a similar life to yours and is…connected, in a way. My twin's name is Paul."

"Please tell me he's not a Faerie," Rachel said. She was pretty sure she was going to be ill very soon.

"No, absolutely not. Most Faeries don't live long enough to find their soul match, and even if they do, they usually just kill them to get an extra boost of energy. No worries, you're not going anywhere near a Faerie if I can help it."

"So, not a Faerie, and not a vampire or a Darkling. What is he?"

"A werewolf."

* * *

The mansion's gates loomed over them, and Rachel found herself clasping Santana's hand a bit more tightly.

"Do they know we're coming?" she asked.

"No, but my car has a tag. It'll open for us, and no one will bother us. Don't worry."

They drove around to one of the guest houses (which were mini mansions in themselves) and parked. It was around midnight, and everything was still, save for a shadow in the window. The front hall's light came on as Rachel hopped out of the car, and she stood facing an average, if scruffy-looking, man.

"Paul King," he said, shaking her hand. "I'm more impressive as a wolf, but I see you're just as impressively beautiful as Santana's said. It's nice to meet you."

"Please stop," Santana whined. "I'm tired."

"My twin gets grumpy when she hasn't eaten. Come on in."


	6. Training

**Give Into the Night**

Rachel sat at the table, a gigantic bowl of stew in front of her. She ate quietly, staring back at Paul who seemed perfectly content to watch her eat. Every once in a while she'd glance toward the stairs to see if Santana was coming back down. The Darkling had taken a milk jug full of blood upstairs to eat.

"I'm sure all of this is incredibly traumatic for you," he said quietly. "But you're both perfectly safe inside these walls. Er…gates."

"Thank you."

He waved her thanks away with a smile. "Tomorrow you'll meet my sisters. They'll show you around the complex while Santana gives our elders the run down on what's happening."

"She said you two are twins…in a way."

He nodded. "Our backgrounds share a common theme, if you will. We're both bullies who pulled a switch to the light," he said, chuckling at his own joke.

"May I ask…."

He nodded, and rose from the table. He pulled his shirt up a bit to reveal a brand on his right side. "Calhoun Waverly Farms," he said. "My daddy's tobacco plantation back when having slaves was a thing. Wish I could tell you that I was one of the 'good slave owners' who wasn't cruel, but I can't. Never gave a beating for sport, like some of them, but I gave them just the same. I got the brand because I knocked out an overseer. There was a little slave girl on our plantation who was about thirteen years old. The overseer had got her pregnant. I was the only one who believed her, though, and he was going to have her whipped. A pregnant, thirteen year old kid—beaten like a dog. I wouldn't have it. But I was only sixteen myself, and he told me he only took orders from my daddy. So I punched him. And my dad had _me _tied to the post, whipped, and branded for taking up for a Negro. When the war broke out, I managed to sneak her and her brother up north with me. Got bitten while I was fighting with the Yankees."

Rachel jumped, feeling a hand on her shoulder. "Oh, hi Santana."

"I think we should get some rest," Santana told her. "That's enough of our morbid histories for one night."

"I agree," Paul said, standing up. "We've got some long days ahead, I'm sure."

* * *

Sunlight was streaming through the window when Rachel woke up, which meant Santana was already up. She heard voices coming from downstairs as she got dressed. When she got down there, there were twelve people packed in the small kitchen—Santana, Paul, and ten other girls.

"Morning, Rae," Santana said.

Paul turned from the stove. "Hey Rachel. I made pancakes. Please ignore the flowery apron."

"Noted," she said, smiling.

"These are my sisters…" he said, and then stared around at the chattering crowd. "Uh, might be easier if they just introduce themselves."

Fifteen minutes later, she'd met Casey, Grace, Ivanna, Amy, Roxy, Bella, Daisy, Hayley, Coraline, and Gwen. She'd also heard bits and pieces of backstories that she'd never remember. Luckily, only Roxy and Ivanna stayed behind once breakfast is over.

"We're going to be training you," Roxy said, eating her thirteenth pancake.

"Train?" Rachel asked. She looked over at Santana. "Should that horrify me as much as it does?"

"Don't worry," Santana said, taking her hand. "It's nothing bad."

"You're human, so we have to go easy on you," Ivanna told her, sounding thoroughly disappointed at that fact. "Lots of us have human partners—they've all gone through the same thing, and we haven't killed anyone yet."

"That's comforting," Rachel said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

The werewolf smiled. "You'll never be able to beat an immortal, but there are certain things you can learn to trick them, or buy yourself time. Don't worry."

She and Roxy got up and helped Paul finish the dishes.

"And if you need me, just ask," Santana said quietly. "I know this is all over—"

"Wait, you're not coming with me?"

"Not this morning. I have to give the Alpha and all the Betas the run down on what's happening. I'll meet up with you at lunch. But if you want to stop, or you just…need to be alone for a minute, let them know."

Rachel nodded. "Right…okay."

"Time to go!" Roxy said cheerfully.

Santana pulled Rachel into a tight hug. "I'll see you in a few hours."

* * *

"Most of this is knowing your enemy," Roxy said. "So we're going to let you into the secret world of immortals. Blind spots, weaknesses, the works."

Rachel nodded and sat down on one of the barrels that made up the front of the wolves' obstacle course.

"Hey," Ivanna said quietly. "I know this is crazy—"

"No…" Rachel said, shaking her head. "You don't know. You don't get it. A week and a half ago, I thought one of my friends was gone forever. Vanished into thin air. Now, not only is she alive, but she's gone all Twilight on me—"

"Fucking Twilight," both wolves grumbled.

"She's heir to a clan, we're both being hunted or in some sort of danger, apparently I'm Darkling!married to her, and now I have to do some kind of crazy human-dating-immortal training. I'm trying to wrap my mind around it all, and at first I was just so relieved to have her back that I didn't care. But I can't… I don't…." She trailed off, running her hands through her hair.

Roxy took her hands and knelt in front of her. "Make you a deal? We won't mess with information overload today since you're starting to spin out—"

"Starting?"

"Let's just work on the physical. We'll run the course a couple of times with you, and get you back to your girlfriend."

"We're not—"

"Yeah, yeah," Ivanna said with a smirk. "Not yet at least."

"I thought you guys said humans can't beat immortals physically."

"You can't, but we can work on reaction times and speed. And we can take out the shock factor."

"So like…the shock of seeing your powers, right?"

"Exactly. Half of the rogues who hunt or otherwise torment humans depend on you not fighting. Most humans stand in shock when they see a wolf transform, or see a vampire hang upside down, etc. If you can get over that, you can make a move before they realize that you're not paralyzed with fear. Ready to get started?"

Rachel stared at the two women, and then out at the obstacle course. Sighing, she nodded. "I'd say this would be a great chapter of my future memoir if I could actually write about it."

"There's always YA fiction," Roxy said, grinning.


	7. Tricks

**Give In to the Night**

Rachel ran down the wooden bridge and climbed up the ladder, faster than she'd ever imagined she could do. She swung herself up into the cargo net and stayed perfectly still. Seeing a flash of fur below, she took a deep breath and held it.

* * *

"_Gah! Rachel," Santana whined._

_Rachel came out of the shadows and smiled. "Don't blame me," she said, pointing to Roxy._

"_She's got to learn how to hide from vampires at some point," the werewolf said. _

"_You're a damn good teacher, apparently. I didn't notice you until—"_

"_Until I was in your direct area of personal space," Rachel recited, looking from her to Roxy. "Vampires and Darklings hunt with their eyes and ears, which are sharper than Wolves…but you have a very small area of personal focus. Meaning if someone's sneaking up on you and you have your attention placed elsewhere, they have to be right on top of you before you notice. Hence my sneak attacks!"_

"_Good to know she's listening," Ivanna said with a grin. She was behind one of the obstacle course's walls, having just morphed back to human form. She caught her clothes as Santana tossed them to her._

"_Could you move on to how to the werewolf stuff?" Santana asked, glaring playfully at them. _

"_Already have. How do Wolves hunt, Rachel?" Roxy asked, tossing Ivanna her shoes._

"_With their noses. It's harder to hide from them, because their sense of smell is so strong. However, their eyes aren't the greatest, and if you hold your breath and stay really still, you have a chance."_

"_Why's that?" _

"_Because humans release their scent when they breathe. To werewolves, at least. Holding your breath makes it harder to pinpoint exactly where the smell is coming from. When you're breathing, you're sort of like pulsing radar."_

"_You've been talking to Benji, haven't you?" Santana asked._

"_Yep."_

* * *

Rachel released her breath slowly as Ivanna passed beneath her. She had been talking to Benji, and Roland, and Cara, and all of the other humans who lived here and had gone through training. It only took an afternoon for her to get all of the theoretical stuff down, but she'd found it hard to put into practice. She'd talked to everyone for tips, and in the past week she'd found that she was (excruciatingly slowly) getting better. The tricks they were teaching her were slowly taking hold.

She felt a breath on the back of her neck, and nearly dropped out of the air. She caught one of the ropes and glared up at Ivanna.

_What did you do wrong?_

Rachel scowled and climbed back up. "I hid, but I didn't check for any other way up. Which there obviously was. And stop talking to me in my head! Makes me feel nuts."

Ivanna gave a little growl, which Rachel recognized as her laugh. _Fine. Santana's here anyway. _

They made their way back to the start of the two-mile course. Santana and Roxy were there talking very animatedly about something.

"Should I even ask?" Rachel asked.

"Tell her Daughtry isn't better than The Cab!" Roxy whined.

"Hipster wolf…" Santana said, smirking. "Want to take a walk?" she asked Rachel.

"Lead the way," Rachel said, taking her hand.

In the past week they'd taken to walking by the river near the edge of the grounds. The first few days, they'd walked silently. Santana had known that Rachel was really starting to feel the situation, and Rachel hadn't known how to articulate all of the questions that were swimming in her head. She did now, though.

"We need to talk," she said.

"I was wondering when that would come up," Santana told her, smiling. "You have questions."

"And you better have answers," Rachel grumbled playfully. "Why are you the heir? To your clan or whatever?"

"Edmund likes to test us all the time. Mind games are his thing. The shortened version? He found out very quickly that I'm conniving, yet merciful, enough to run the group. Two of the elders are planning on moving forming their own clans. Really though, I think I remind him of someone in his past. He never had a wife or children, so far as he's told us…but someone. I don't know. I guess it's pretty common that vampire heir naming has no rhyme or reason, so long as the basic hierarchy is maintained."

"And the older Darklings? They don't care that someone younger is…uh…usurping their status?"

"Most of them don't. We're rich, and we can do whatever we want. Go wherever we want. We can join different covens, if we're not happy. They just want to be able to get on with their lives…er…afterlives. They don't much care who's leading. And they have so much respect for Edmund, they trust his decisions."

Rachel nodded, and was quiet for a moment. They stopped near the riverbank and sat down, leaning back against one of the trees. "And this?" she said, holding up her right hand. The mark had faded to two tiny white dots by this point.

"It doesn't…you don't have to like…actually marry me or anything. You met Kona and George. They're brothers, that's why George marked him. Not all of the ties are romantic. It just means that I have a responsibility to protect you—and that any other vampire, or Darkling, or wolf, or whatever, knows that. I get it if you don't feel the same way."

"Maybe I do…." Rachel said quietly.

* * *

Santana woke up the next day to find Rachel already gone. She smiled and picked up the note the younger woman had left for her.

_Ivanna's being all drill sergeant again. See you at lunch! Xo, Rachel_

She threw on a hoodie and wandered downstairs to grab some blood. It was weird that the word "blood" didn't even phase her any more. She'd nearly starved the first month out of hibernation, because she couldn't get used to drinking it. Now…well, it was just a part of the package.

Her phone buzzed as she was pouring the red liquid into a glass. She saw the name Greenley come up on the display—one of the vampires from Queenan's clan. "Sup, G?"

"Santana, we've found him!" Greenley said. "We've got him at the old library. The one that's under construction. Edmund's interrogating him right now. He told me to call you."

"Does he want me there?"

"Yeah. He says get here as soon as you can. He wants this over with."

"I'll leave now. Thanks, G."

She hung up and sent a text to Paul before sprinting toward her truck.


	8. Realizations

**Give In to the Night**

Rachel laughed as Kona, one of the other humans in the compound, picked her up and spun her around.

"Welcome to the family," he said, setting her back on her feet. "I'm sure we'll be rocking a huge dinner in the mansion to welcome our newest human through training."

"Right, all right," Paul said. "Let her get her breath back…sheesh. Come on, Rachel, let's go grab Santana and get some lunch." He kneeled so she could climb onto his back.

She wasn't sure why he did this, but she had a theory that it was a mix of brotherly affection, and the fact that, as a Wolf, he walked about eight times faster than she did. "Where is she?" Rachel asked. "She usually meets me after practice."

"I don't know. I had to go talk to Liza—our Alpha," he clarified, "a bit after you left. So I'm not sure what she's been up to. Watching reruns of Honey Boo Boo, probably."

Rachel laughed, and then stopped abruptly when she spotted Santana's SUV missing.

"What the hell?" Paul asked.

They entered the house and looked around. Nothing was out of place, but Santana's wallet was gone.

"She left?" Rachel asked. "But what…"

A minute later, all of Paul's sisters had rushed in. Rachel stood, wishing desperately that she too had powers of telepathy, because watching them make constipated faces at each other was doing nothing for her nerves. "What's going on?"

"Oh, sorry Rachel," Grace said. "We forget sometimes. We're trying to figure out where she would've gone."

"Do you think Edmund called her away?" Ivanna asked.

"No," Paul said. "Liza said she'd tell us if Edmund was in contact. He'd have gotten in touch with her directly. He didn't want Santana out fighting."

Rachel twisted the sleeves of her hoodie nervously.

"Did you check your phone, Paul?" Hayley asked. "Maybe she called or sent you a text."

"Nothing," he said, looking down at it. "Okay…heads together. Let's assume it was a trap. What would make her leave?"

"If…they said Rachel was in danger?" Roxy suggested.

"Behind these walls? The President himself reserves a room here in case of an attack," Paul said. "I doubt she would've fallen for that."

"Maybe they said they'd caught him, and that Edmund was busy," Daisy, the youngest said.

"No—"

"No, listen," she insisted. "She's his heir. If he calls, she has to go. So if they told her something like…I don't know, Taylor had been caught, but Edmund needed her there for the execution…. Or that he was fighting Taylor and they needed her for backup. Everyone knows how powerful she is. Plus, she's kind of a Gryffindor about things."

A cold sense of dread washed over Rachel at that moment, and she had to sit down.

"Amy, Coraline, take her upstairs," Paul ordered.

Rachel waved them away with a shake of her head. "I'm…I'm okay."

"No, you're not," he said, but didn't argue any further. "So if they're gearing up for a fight, where would they go? It would take hours to hit any open land to battle."

"No…that's not Taylor's style. He'd stay in the city," Roxy said.

"It would have to be somewhere that was already a wreck," Gwen added. "A construction site, or something. Even Taylor's not dumb enough to risk exposure."

"The library," Rachel said.

"Huh?"

"The library I work at… Theodor Geisel Library. It's under construction right now for renovations. They've torn down half of it already."

"What do you guys think?" Paul asked.

"We can check," Ivanna said. "Can you feel anything at all?"

"She's anxious," Paul said, closing his eyes for a moment. "But I can't track her. We'll check out the library. Ivanna, Gwen, and Casey, you come with me. Daisy and Roxy, stay with Rachel. The rest of you, spread out over the city. Look for anything out of place."

Rachel allowed herself to be steered into the living room. She caught Roxy give Daisy a worried look and asked, "What? There's something you're not telling me. What is it?"

Roxy took Rachel's right hand and ran a finger along the barely visible bite marks. "How long has it been since she…er…bit you?"

"A couple of weeks and some change. Why?"

Roxy closed her eyes and turned her head up slightly, as if praying. "The best thing you can do right now is to relax," she started.

"You can't be serious. My girlfr—I mean, my friend is walking into a trap and you—"

"Rachel," Daisy said. "I don't know what your relationship with Santana is headed toward…but if it's what absolutely everyone thinks it is? You're going to be able to feel some of what she's feeling emotion-wise. And vice versa. You want to help her right now, but you feel helpless. I can tell. I've been there before. But you're not helpless. The connection between the two of you is strong. You have to stay calm. I promise…she'll be able to tell."

Rachel took a deep shaky breath and nodded.

* * *

Santana swerved to a halt in the alleyway behind the library. Greenley and Conan were waiting for her. She jumped out of the car and jogged over to them. "What happened? How'd they find him?"

"We don't know," Greenley said. She shrugged and pointed up. "They're on the third floor. We're supposed to be keeping watch until you and Drake get here."

"Okay, thanks." She made to go into the library's back door, but stopped as a piercing headache came over her for a second. "Ah!" she gasped, thinking she heard something behind her.

"Santana?" Conan asked.

"It's fine. Just…a headache." It had gone as quickly as it had come, and she opened the door to the building. The entrance was directly in front of the stairs. She climbed slowly, listening hard. She'd been sure she'd heard something. When she reached the second floor, the headache came again, and this time she knew someone was yelling. It was a man's voice, but as soon as the headache left, the building was silent again.

That's when she knew something was wrong.

If Edmund were truly up there, there would be noise—people milling about, discussing what justice to dispense. At very least, Edmund would be giving Taylor a long, dull lecture. But there was nothing. This place was silent as a tomb.

The headache came back, and with it, the man's voice. It was Paul's.

"STOP, Santana!"

He was trying to reach her. This was a trap. She turned….

And stared directly into Taylor's face.


	9. Fight

**Give In to the Night**

Santana smiled. "I thought I smelled the stench of burnt flesh and Axe body spray."

Taylor chuckled. "You can't talk your way out, Santana. Not this time. Keep walking," he said, nodding up the stairs."

Santana walked backwards up the stairs, not taking her eyes off of the older Darkling. "When did Greenley and Conan defect?"

"Shortly after I told them what you'd put me through," he answered as they made it to the second floor landing. "They weren't impressed."

"I'm sure. Conan adores you and Greenley wants you to lead. She always has. For some reason, she thinks cruelty is better than any other trait."

"And what you did to me…wasn't that cruel?"

"Yes."

There was silence as they stood in the middle of the second floor. Santana could see marks from where they'd moved the bookshelves out. Light was pouring in from the demolished wall, but both of them were well in the shadows.

"Just us, huh?" she asked. "Didn't think one on one was really your style."

"I can handle one Darkling whose ego's gotten the better of her just fine."

Santana nodded and stood with her hands behind her back.

This seemed to throw Taylor, who circled her. "What's your plan?"

"I don't have one," she answered with complete honesty. "This caught me out. You've got the upper hand here."

Taylor considered this for a long moment. Then he lunged.

* * *

It had been a hard decision, but, as Paul swerved onto the street where Edmund's house was, he knew he had to get back up. He jumped out of the car and called, "EDMUND!"

The agreement between the clans was that you weren't allowed on property without an invitation. The downside to this was that during emergencies, you had to be balls achingly annoying to get someone's attention.

"EDMUND!"

The Darkling appeared on the porch a moment later, casting a stern look at Paul. "What's this ruckus?" he asked. "Paul—what is it? What—"

"Santana. He's got Santana."

* * *

Rachel felt a thrill of anxiety and tried to squash it. "I…think they might be fighting," she said. She took a deep breath and willed herself to relax.

Roxy rubbed her back and Daisy talked to her in a soft voice.

"Just remember, you're safe here. And she's going to be so much better off knowing that. Just stay calm."

With a shudder and another deep breath, Rachel nodded. She closed her eyes and tried to think about the walks she'd taken with Santana over the past few days. Those had been peaceful. Those had been good days. Good, peaceful memories.

She just hoped they weren't the last.

* * *

Santana threw Taylor across the room. The ground rumbled and debris fell from the ceiling when he hit the wall.

Still, he charged at her again, lightning fast. This time, he managed to land a punch and send her sliding into the sunlight.

Santana felt her skin begin to burn as she struggled to her feet. She didn't know how long they'd been at it, but she could tell that they were equally matched in terms of strength. The problem was, she was pretty sure he could fight longer. Which meant that she needed to fight dirty and end it quick.

He wasn't giving her a chance, though. Every time they knocked each other down, they'd get back up and start again. It was going nowhere fast. He seemed to know this too, because he began putting more effort into the attacks.

She knocked him into a pile of debris, but he managed to kick her straight in the gut. Before she could recover, he had her in a choke hold. Lights flashed in front of her eyes, but she managed to elbow him in the kidneys. She fell away from him, gasping for air.

The two of them crawled away from each other, unable to continue for a moment.

Santana began to catch her breath, when a pair of hands grabbed her firmly. "Conan, this is a private party." She struggled to get away, but Greenley was there in a moment, holding onto her as well.

"Trust me…they're invited," Taylor said, standing finally. "I want to kill you, but I'm not a Bond villain. I gladly accept help from my minions."

"Nice guy you're following," she muttered to her two captors. "So what now?" she snapped. "Going to kill me?"

"Kill you? No. I'm going to tie you up over there in the corner, where there's plenty of sunlight, but you can't be seen from the street. I'll watch you burn until the sun goes down, and then we'll move you. I plan on keeping you hidden until we find that little cunt of yours."

Santana growled at him, and struggled again. Greenley and Conan held on, even as she kicked both of them repeatedly.

Taylor went to the staircase and retrieved a length of rope. "Where'd you leave her? With Paul? Don't worry, their little fortress won't pose any problem for me and my friends."

"You, Conan and Greenley couldn't do any damage to that place," Santana snarled.

"We could with a few Faeries," he said quietly.

The color drained from Santana's face. "You really are the world's second dumbest bitch, aren't you?"

"Second?"

"Yeah, after your mother."

He punched her hard enough to leave a cut on her cheek.

She spit and let out a short, mirthless chuckle. "They won't follow you. They'll kill you as savagely as they kill humans. They're not interested in a Darkling's vendetta."

"They'll kill her if I bring her to them. And you'll watch. But for now…."

He bound her hands and feet, and Conan dragged her into the sunlight.

She winced and gasped as her skin started to burn.

* * *

"Rachel! No, Rachel, it's okay…she's going to be okay!"

It was too late. Awful visions were swirling in Rachel's head, and she was starting to hyperventilate. From a long way off, she heard a door opening, and a new voice entered. But she couldn't focus. Her vision swam, and the feeling of dread that had overtaken her earlier came back in force. A weight settled on her chest, but she didn't cry. She tried to gain control of it—to reassure Santana even though they were miles away.

"Rachel?"

It wasn't working. She knew—somewhere inside her, without a doubt—that Santana was losing. She was in pain.

"Rachel…it's Liza. Listen to me…breathe."

Rachel swallowed and tried to obey. She took one shuddering breath before her world went black.

* * *

Santana was dragged out of the sunlight not five minutes later. The pain was excruciating. Her eyes and throat were dry and stinging. She could barely make out the shapes around her, but she recognized the voice.

"Foolish girl," Edmund said quietly as he gently lifted her and carried her down to the car.


	10. The Aftermath

_**LbN: Thank you so much to everyone who read/reviewed/favorited/followed. Much love! There will be a sequel to this ;)**_

Rachel woke to the sound of shuffling paper. When she opened her eyes, she saw a woman sitting next to her bed, reading a book.

"Good morning, little one," she said, smiling at her. She set the book down on the end table and took Rachel's hand. "How are you feeling?"

"…okay…" Rachel groaned. "My head…where's Santana?" she asked, panic gripping her.

"Hush…. Santana is fine. She had to have her own room while she was recovering."

"Why?"

"She needed blood, and lots of it. It wouldn't have been safe for her to be near you then."

"She's okay then?"

The woman nodded. "Forgive me, I should reintroduce myself. I am Liza, the clan's Alpha. You were…er…incapacitated when we first met."

"What happened?"

"Edmund and Paul and the others found Santana in time. You two were…feeding off each other's anxiety, for lack of better description. But all is well. Taylor has been executed, as well as his accomplices. You are safe."

"Can I see her?"

Liza leaned over and pulled Rachel's blankets up. "Not yet. She's still recovering. But soon."

"What did he do to her?"

The older woman looked at her with sad brown eyes. "That is for Santana to share, if she wishes. For now, rest. And I'll go tell my absolutely incorrigible daughters that you're alright. They've been mad with worry."

Rachel smiled, and closed her eyes again.

* * *

Santana felt Edmund's hand on her forehead. "It doesn't hurt anymore," she whispered, not opening her eyes.

"Good," he said. "Would it interest you to know that your Rachel woke up a bit ago?"

Her eyes snapped open at this. "Is she okay? Can I see her?"

Edmund took out a bit of fabric that Santana recognized as one of Rachel's scarves. He waved it vaguely in her direction.

A rumble came from deep within her chest.

"No, you may not see her," he said. "Just her sent sets off your hunting instincts. It will be a few days yet."

Santana sat up just so she could flop back on her pillows in frustration.

"Be calm," he said sternly. "You need your rest."

"Are you mad at me?" she asked softly.

He kneeled next to the bed and kissed her forehead. "No. The fault is, partially, mine. You are strong, but you are still very young. Very human. We should have planned for something like this. But we didn't, and we've paid the price and learned, haven't we?"

She nodded.

"I will go and check on your tiny human. Sleep now." He moved the IV full of plasma closer to her bed and left the room.

* * *

The days passed quietly. Paul and all of his sisters visited, and carried messages back and forth between her and Santana.

By the fourth day, Edmund had given the okay for Santana and Rachel to be in the same room together—under supervision.

"I feel like I'm picking you up for the eighth grade dance and you're dad's standing behind you with a shotgun," Santana grumbled.

"Dad's more of a sword fan. Daddy would have his pistol, though," Rachel said, smiling. "Hug me," she demanded.

Santana grinned, and did so. She pulled Rachel close and reveled in the younger girl's warmth. Breathing in deeply, she mumbled, "Stay with me…?"

Tightening her grip on the Darkling—her Darkling—Rachel smiled and nodded.


End file.
